Into the Deep
by EarthDaughter
Summary: Betty has finally let go of her lame "boyfriend" Archie and selfish, mischeivious Veronica and is headed for college in Paris. Even in France, she struggles to forget highschool happenings and her life is turned upside down by one shattering letter.
1. The Moon's Blessing

Chapter 1: The Moon's Blessing

Brief Introduction: This story is a fan fiction for Betty and Veronica comic books, but you do not need to know of them to read this story! Essentially, Betty and Veronica both like this one guy, Archie, and are always fighting over him. Veronica is extremely rich and glamorous. Betty is more of the "girl next door" type. She's sweet, generous, smart, athletic, cute, and a good cook. Unfortunately, Archie often breaks his dates with Betty for dates with Veronica. Everyone but Betty can see that Archie uses the poor girl! But that's all about to change...

Setting down my steaming mug of cocoa, I slowly walked over to the telescope and put my eye to the lense. I gently moved the black cylinder towards Orion's belt until I saw the first star of his belt. Moving the telescope by tiny increments, I sought out my treasure amidst the darkness. Yes! Orion's nebula came into focus and the overwhelming emotion of amazement hit me like a punch in the stomach, just like it always does. Bright, glittery swirls of white made up this deep space location, and the nebula looked like a curtain of clouds enshrouding something unbelievable mysterious and magnificent. As always, my sense of security on planet Earth fell through the floor. Who's in that nebula? Who else is out there? Are we humans special? Who's out there like me? This last query brought me back to reality.

The past few months had been especially rough for me. I pushed the telescope from its perfect angle and encircled my hand around comforting cocoa. I still can remember that windy September day. Archie and I were sitting at the stools at Pop Tate's sipping our vanilla milkshakes when Veronica Lodge sauntered up, looking dazzling in a yellow miniskirt and low cut striped shirt. Archie and I were planning to see a movie that evening together, but Veronica, as usual, upset our plans.

"Want to go see the new thriller, _I Swear I Never Lied_, Archiekins?" asked Veronica in her sickeningly sweet voice. She gave me a sidelong glance that clearly said _he's my date tonight._

"Well," began Archie, "Betty and I..." Veronica quickly cut in.

"But I asked you on Friday! We haven't gone to a movie in forever!" murmured Veronica, as she batted her goopy eyelashes.

"You could get an Academy Award for that act," I muttered, sucking up the last of my creamy milkshake.

"Sure, buttercup," stuttered Archie, "How about next week, Bets?"

That was when something inside of me snapped. I totally lost it. This thing inside of me had been stretching; each date Archie broke, each time he ran while I was talking to greet Veronica stretched that thing a little farther. And it had snapped. I was sick of being the back-up girl and the one that was always ditched.

"Archie," I said in menacing tones, "You said that last week, and the week before that, so why don't you just stop trying to be nice. I'm SICK of being stood up! He's all yours Veronica, he's all yours!"

I stormed out of the restaurant, attracting stares from all the teens in there. I knew what they were all thinking, but I didn't care. _Betty Cooper? What happened to her? She lost it! She was so sweet! _I jumped into my baby blue Honda and roared home, tears blurring my vision and stinging my cheeks.

When I got home that day, I had a good long cry and packed away all of Archie's signed pictures. They were probably copies anyways, sent to all the girls in our class. After a soothing bath, I consulted the expert on problems such as my own: my mom.

We had a long discussion and I realized that my mom had seen the way Archie had treated me and knew that I would be hurt someday, it would only be a matter of time. We talked about why he wasn't right for me and what I need in a boyfriend. By the time I went to bed, it was midnight and I was feeling more relaxed.

That had been then, and this was now. I had avoided Archie completely, but was sure of how to handle Veronica. She had tried to keep Archie and me apart! But ultimately, it was Archie who chose to stand me up. Then again, she had selfishly tricked Archie many times into skipping our dates, so that sly little fox was to blame as well. I decided to seek out a new crowd with the astronomy club and I'm pleased to say that I flourished there. I got my own telescope and enjoyed the company of the animated and intellectual girls. Boys, however, just didn't interest me anymore. I had been to hurt by Archie. Whenever I saw Archie in the halls, it was uncomfortable. I would think I saw a glimpse of remorse or regret in his eyes, something that said _I'm sorry, I miss you_. But then it would pass and be replaced by the usual love and lust for Veronica. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to get out of Riverdale for college. Most of the teens would go to Riverdale Community College or University California Los Angeles. I would not be going with them, no matter what.

Amazingly, the perfect solution arose in November. Miss Grundy pulled me aside after class, a number of brochures in her hands.

"Have you considered going to an international college, Betty?" asked Miss Grundy.

"No," I said, "That's so far and my parents wouldn't be able to afford it."

"Well, you're an excellent student, so you could probably get a scholarship. I think you should consider it." She handed me the bright brochures, and they felt like tickets to the moon.

"Thank you," I whispered, knowing that I was not going to be in America next fall.

Right now, that's what I'm holding. The brochure for the college that grabbed my attention the most. Is this where I really want to go? Is this what I want to do? I looked up at stars, trying to connect the points of light into an answer. Why not? I need to get far, far away from Riverdale and Archie and Veronica. If I'm going to become a successful, happy person, I need to get away from my high school trauma and drama. I know that's what I need to do. I walked up to the screen door and turned back once more, just in time to see the moon rise over the ridge and spread its soft glow upon the land. Its presence reassured me; my decision was solid and good. Its round face was smiling upon me.

Okay, that's chapter 1 and I'm not sure if it is good at ALL. Please review! Take thirty seconds to review my story. If it stinks, say so, because it's kind of lame! Please no flamers, though. THANKS IN ADVANCE FOR REVIEWING!!


	2. Isablel's Inspiration

Chapter 2: Bon Voyage!

Thanks a million to AZFRECKLE, archies-comics, and Digital Temptest for reviewing my story! You all rock!!!! And for you three wonderful people, onward!!!

For the sixth time, I highlighted the lame paragraph and hit delete. None of my essay ideas were even remotely possible! I had decided to apply to the American University in Paris, but obviously, I had to get in before I could go. For the most part my application was wonderful; I had cited lots of volunteer work I had done and all of the extracurricular activities I participate in. But lately, my grades had been slipping because I was so preoccupied with Archie and Veronica. I received a C on our last science final! A C!! Usually, I consistently received A's and B's. My writing teacher even asked me if I was having problems at home! How embarrassing! So I had to focus if I was to learn in France next year. This essay was the last part of the application that needed to be completed. I had considered writing about my mom as my role model, but that seemed to boring. Giving up, I closed the program and trudged downstairs, hoping that an idea light bulb would just pop on above my head like in the comics.

Downstairs, my mother was looking at an old family album. Grabbing an apple, I sat down next to her.

"Who's that?" I asked, pointing at the black and white picture of a stern-looking man in a suit.

"That's your great-grandfather, Charles," said my mother, "He was strict, but very kind deep down."

"Hmm....who's that girl on the beach?" I questioned, referring to a stunning picture of a young woman standing on the sand with the ocean stretching out behind her. She had wheaten hair and was beautiful in a strange way. Her mouth was upturned in a carefree smile and she seemed to be laughing at something happening on the beach. She had one hand placed on her hip and the other held an apple, oddly enough. The photo mesmerized me, partly because the girl looked so similar to myself.

"That was Isabel, my great-grandmother," replied my mother, smiling slightly.

"She married that stern man?" I gasped, looking at the contrasting pictures.

"Oh, but they were so much in love!" laughed my mother, her aqua eyes sparkling, "Isabel came to America in 1906 from Ireland. She was only fourteen."

I was shocked.

"Did she come with her family?"

"Nope," replied my mother, "All alone, barely speaking English."

I could hardly believe it. I couldn't imagine moving to another country all alone without even knowing the language. What an audacious girl! Suddenly, I realized what to write my story about. It was perfect!

"Thanks, Mom!" I said excitedly, "You're brilliant!"

I ran up the stairs, leaving my confused mother behind, but taking with me the picture of Isabel. I had decided to write an essay about my heritage and how similar Isabel and I were, both seeking out better futures for ourselves. My better future, however, lay in France, not America. I would tell the story of Isabel and with this one anecdote, the story of millions of immigrants would also be told. An all-American essay for an all-American girl! I placed my fingers on the keyboard and let my thoughts flow freely.

The freshly typed sheets of paper were like gold in my hands. My essay was finished and radiated Isabel's spirit and her love of America. Now, what would the French think of it? I tucked the essay and application in a manila envelope and carefully wrote the address on a label.

"Mom, I'm going to mail my application!" I shouted, unlocking the door.

"Okay, honey! Are you sure??" she relied worriedly, "You applied to the University of Arizona and Oregon University too, right?"

"Yes Mom!! And I'm positive about France," I said, remembering last week's glowing moon.

It was a wintry day, and a cold wind bit at my fingertips. The trees looked bare without their leaves and loomed eerily over the sidewalks. I reached the big blue mailbox just as it began to snow. A snowflake landed in my hand and I studied its intricate crystalline patterns. _They say no two snowflakes are alike_, I thought, _That goes for people too._ I dropped the envelope in the mailbox and the thump of it hitting the bottom seemed to resonate throughout the barren neighborhood. Stuffing my hands in my pockets and zipping up my jacket, I began the journey home. And now we wait. We hold our breaths for acceptance.

Okay, that was chapter two, and I know it wasn't great. The story will pick up the pace very soon. In the meantime, REVIEW!!! (No flamers, please.) Sorry if Betty's family is different because I just made them up.


	3. Seltzer Water and Movies

Thanks reviewers and sorry it took me awhile to write this chapter!!! You all are the best!!!!

Chapter 3: Seltzer Water and Movies

_3 Months Later: April 20_

I stared anxiously at the letter, trying to quiet the loud pounding of my heart. My mother hovered nearby, flitting in and out of the room like a nervous bird. The letter was a cream color and fairly large. That was a good sign. I took a deep breath and ripped the letter open. Once I had read the letter three times, I finally believed it. With a full scholarship, I was going to Paris, France this fall! FRANCE!!!

Oh no. Trouble was headed my way. This trouble was in the form of a slender teen in light jeans and a designer tank top. This trouble was none other than Veronica Lodge.

"Hello, Betty," said Veronica, surveying my simple outfit with one sharp glance.

"Hi," I muttered, clutching my binders closer to my chest.

"I've got great news," chirped Veronica, "Archie dear and I are going to UCLA for college, where we will begin our wonderful life together!"

_Stay calm._ I thought to myself. _Don't get worked up about Veronica Lodge!_

"That's great," I said with mock interest, "I'm so happy for you!!"

"Where will you be going? Harvard?" questioned Veronica.

"Actually, I'm going to the American University in France," I replied quickly.

"Hmmm....interesting."

VERONICA'S POV

Betty's going to France! Yes!! Wait a minute, girl, don't get too excited. Archie could think Betty's very brave to go to France and stay in contact with her. I've seen the way Archie sometimes looks at the blonde-haired perfectionist! They must not stay in contact and Betty must know she has no chances whatsoever with Archie. I'll manage that; after all, I am Veronica Lodge, clever, rich, and beautiful beyond belief!!

END VERONICA'S POV

Just then, Archie walked by, obviously trying to ignore the two girls.

"Archie!" called Veronica, gripping on tightly to his arm.

"Betty here, is going to France for college! Too bad she's not going with us to UCLA! We're going to have such a grand time!" said Veronica maliciously.

Veronica wrapped her perfectly manicured hands around Archie's neck and began to pull him down towards her. They were going to kiss and I really didn't want to see that right now.

"I have to run! I'm going to be late for class!" I lied, sidestepping the intertwined pair and heading towards math. Talking with Veronica was never fun and always drowned my self-esteem. I vowed to avoid the schemer from now on and spare myself her drama.

_4 Months Later: August 23_

"Can I get you something to drink, ma'am," asked the flight attendant, smoothing back her fading brown hair.

"I'll have a glass of seltzer water, please," I replied.

The trip had been wonderful so far, and I felt completely independent and free for the first time in my life. I was always tied down in Riverdale and couldn't make decisions on my own without my parents interfering. I had a fresh start in France. The chance to be anyone I chose. Archie and Veronica were meaningless people from a past life, for all I cared. Sipping my seltzer water, I pondered the many things I could do in this new life. All the places I could visit. All the people I could meet. Endless possibilities. I liked that feeling.

The summer had gone quickly between all the packing and last minute family time. I visited Polly, my older sister, in San Francisco and had to endure many discussions with my mom about how I could still stay home and that maybe I was too young for this. I appreciated my mother's compassion and love, but it did get tiresome after awhile. I didn't see Veronica and Archie all summer, which was fine with me. And so my childhood ended with me boarding the large aircraft, waving to my parents, and clutching the picture of Isabel. During the flight to New York, I was a fountain of tears, and despite all my preparation for the separation, I broke down. I know Isabel must have felt the same way boarding her ship and I felt better looking at her picture and imagined that she was with me for this adventure. Things were better after that, and luckily, I regained control of my emotions because the old lady next to me kept looking up from her romance novel, looking quite perturbed by my sobs.

The Boeing 747 I took to Paris was amazing! The flight attendants were extremely friendly and I had my own television screen on which to watch movies. So far, I've watched _A Walk to Remember_, which brought some more tears to by swollen eyes and _Vanity Fair_, which is set in London. I'm sure I'll be visiting London some time soon! After that, I reviewed common phrases I will need in my French-English dictionary. I studied French in school for 5 years, but I still don't speak it fluently. The stewardess came around later with pillows and blankets for sleeping and the lights were turned off. It's odd flying at night over the ocean, with the stars whizzing by and the waves lapping silently far below. Despite my excitement and anxiety about the next day, I finally lapsed into a dreamless slumber, oblivious of the horrors tomorrow would bring.

Betty murmurs something in her sleep...Review!!!


	4. Mint Tea

Chapter 4: Mint Tea

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers, who have so kindly reviewed every chapter of this story. Back to you, Betty!

The erratic jerking of the plane woke me from my slumber. The man next to me was slumped over his tray table, snoring loudly. _A stampede of horses wouldn't wake him up_, I thought dismally, knowing that I would never be able to get back to sleep. The plane continued its rough flight and titled so much to the side that I could only see the dark ocean below. I gulped nervously. What was going on? The plane righted itself, only to turn on its other side, causing the snoring man's head to slip off the tray table onto the armrest. I noticed several people around me looking very groggy and nervous. Finally, the captain's calming voice blared over the loudspeaker, "Folks, we're encountering a bit of turbulence so I'd like to ask you to please fasten your seat belts and sit tight. We should—" His voice faded into static. The plane seemed to be hit by a gust of wind, for we quickly tilted again at a sharp angle. The plane struggled to regain its equilibrium. It slanted a little further, causing chaos to erupt among the passengers. People gasped and screamed as the plane moved closer to becoming upside down. The man next to me slept on. Finally, the wind seemed to cease its blowing and we spun back into an upright position. I was dizzy and panicked. I didn't want to be another statistic of air travel deaths. Suddenly, we began heading downwards. We began to pick up speed and the plane hurtled towards the Atlantic like a wild roller coaster. I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst.

I opened one eye. I couldn't be dead already! I glanced over at the sleeping figure next to me. I was still on the plane! The pilot had somehow managed to regain control of plane and bring it upwards. His reassuring voice spoke out on the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are most sorry for the intense turbulence. There is an enormous storm of unprecedented size off the coast of France and Spain with winds whipping at around 150 miles per hour. The storm is even worse further up by Ireland and England. We are going veer off course and try to land in Spain or Portugal, where we will wait out the storm. I will bring you an update as soon as possible." With that, the pilot signed off, and a quiet murmuring circulated around the plane.

PILOT'S CABIN

"Madrid! Madrid! Do you copy?" shouted the pilot urgently, "This is Air France flight 182, caught in a storm off the coast of France. We cannot continue and need a place to land!"

The only reply was static.

"Dang!" muttered the pilot.

He tried to radio an airport in Portugal. "Portugal International Airport! Do you copy? This is Air France, flight 182 caught in a storm! Over!"

A heavily accented voice replied, "Hello? Can you hear me? We cannot allow you to land! There are winds blowing up to 200 kilometers per hour down here! All air travel is suspended in Portugal and Spain! Can you go further south?"

"We'll try! Over!" said the pilot, as he pulled the plane out of another sideways tilt.

The pilot racked his brain for ideas. They would have difficulties flying over Spain to get to Italy. He also wasn't sure whether they would have enough fuel to make it there. _That only leaves Africa as an option_, sighed the pilot.

"Rabat, Morocco, do you read? This is Air France, caught in a storm off of France," stated the pilot. He repeated his plea for help in French.

A jargon of words was all that he got.

"Repeat! Over!" shouted the pilot anxiously.

After a few more minutes, someone replied in French, "Airstrip 30 is open for you to land on Air France! We will send personnel out to direct you as soon as possible. Over."

The pilot heaved a sigh of relief. He had been to Rabat's airport many times and knew the layout of the airstrips. Landing would be no problem. The pilot reset the direction of the airplane and composed himself for addressing the passengers.

END PILOT'S CABIN

_Morocco_, I thought, _how exotic!_ What a rare adventure this was! An hour or so later, we began the descent down to Rabat, the capital of Morocco. The weather was calm here and we were able to safely land on the airstrip. In Morocco, it was around 4 o'clock in the afternoon and the pilot informed us that we would be scheduled to leave late tonight. We left the stuffy plane and stepped into the bright, African sunshine. Most of the people decided to wait in the foreign airport, but a few wanted to explore Rabat. _When am I going to be in Africa again?_ I thought, _I should just go out and see the city_. So, after calling my concerned parents, me and four other passengers took a taxi into town. I felt so distant from my parents...I was sad about that but liked the feeling of independence. I practiced my French with the taxi driver, asking all sorts of questions. One of the other passengers, Trinity, was a young girl about my age who was also going to the American University in Paris. We both chose to go see the sites. Trinity was from Vermont and was a dark-haired beauty with pale skin and emerald eyes. Her voice was enchanting, quiet, and melodic.

"I love traveling," she whispered, looking out into the lively street, "I lived in Switzerland for a year with my parents when I was 14. Oh look!!"

I followed her pointing finger to a wedding that was taking place in a nearby park. The bride was young, maybe younger than me, and was dressed in a traditional outfit. It was composed of brightly colored fabric that had been elegantly folded and wrapped around her slender form. We soon passed the sight, the ceremony disappearing behind us in the afternoon heat. The stores were so exotic looking and colorful! People walked casually down the streets and children played merrily along the road. Two girls strolled arm and arm, eating some sort of chewy candy and looking quite content. At last, we reached our destination: Marraheh Restaurant. One of the people we were traveling with, a middle-aged man named Craig, had been to Rabat before and spoke highly of this eatery.

We entered the dim restaurant and I was greeted by the striking smells of foreign spices and incense. The tables were low and round and we sat upon fancy "divans" as Craig called them (they looked like pillows to me). The menu was mind-boggling. There were so many courses and options—all in another language. I understood a few words such as "beef," "lamb," and "chocolate." Craig, who was fluent in French, ordered for us all. We were first served mint tea and the waitress poured us each a steaming cup. The tea was very aromatic and flavorful, and the mint had a sweet, cooling taste. We made small talk with one another, discussing our backgrounds and where we were headed.

"Betty and I are both headed to the American University in Paris," said Trinity softly, pushing aside a stray lock of her thick hair. The group murmured their amazement, praising our achievements.

At last, our first course arrived. It was a light flaky bread that had a slight peppery flavor. These breads seemed like individual works of art! They were so perfectly golden brown and textured! Next came the "batinjaan zalud," as Craig called it, which was a delicious salad made with eggplant. I was already beginning to get full, but more food came. The couscous marrakeesh was a rice dish with lamb and chicken. I sampled the delicacy, trying to restrain myself from eating more. All the food was eaten with our hands!

"Mmmm...that was good," I said contentedly, stretching my arms above my head.

"There's more," laughed Craig, his light brown eyes twinkling.

The beautiful waitress put in front of us yet another dish. This was kareeb kareesh, which is vegetables and beef in a flavorful peanut sauce. After a few more courses, the flow of food finally ended.

"I'm so incredible full!" laughed Trinity, shaking her delicate curls.

"Oh, I know," I said, reclining back on my divan.

Before we left, the belly dancers began to perform. They were lanky women with rich, mocha skin, dressed skimpily in light, colorful fabrics. Some had veils over their faces and others had intricate jewel designs around their eyes. They each had bracelets that clinked melodically with each shake of the wrist. The music they danced to was very foreign and rhythmic. By sashaying their hips and moving their arms, they created a unique but elegant dance. We finally departed into the steamy night, leaving behind the spicy aromas and gentle jangle of the belly dancers' trinkets.

Walking down the street, I felt amazed at my good fortune. How many people flying to France end up getting to spend a day in Morocco? I had lived for so long in Riverdale and only Riverdale, closing myself off to the rest of the world. I had no idea what other cultures were like! Finally, I was getting a chance to explore! I turned to Trinity, and her eyes seemed to reflect the same excitement I felt.

"Amazing!" I said.

"Amazing!" she echoed.

At around 11 o'clock that night, the pilot finally got the report that skies were clear. We took off for France, one last time. This afternoon in Africa felt like a dream, but the lingering taste of mint tea in my mouth keeps it all so real.

Woah! That was random, I know! But I just like Africa, so bear with me! 

Next time: Betty gets to France (woo hoo!), meets some gals _and some guys_!


	5. From France With Love

Okay, I'm not sure if I'll be continuing this fanfic, because it feels rather lame. I might just wipe it off the face of the Earth. But before I do that, though, I'm going to write the 5th chapter and see how it goes. Thanks to my wonderful reviewers and no thanks to the flamer! No more flamers! Period. If ya don't like, then go write your own cuz I don't care!! (deletes evil review from computer) Anyways, tentatively on with my story...

Chapter 5: From France With Love

I stared out my dorm window, absolutely in awe. I had a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. The Eiffel Tower. I couldn't believe my good fortune! Trinity stood right next to me, equally stunned.

"That is one incredible view," she whispered. The structure was beginning to light up as night fell, and it dominated the Parisian horizon.

We had finally arrived in Paris after our exciting excursion to Morocco. The last few hours had been a flurry of activity between getting our luggage, finding the university, and settling in our room. Trinity was my roommate and I knew that we would soon become fast friends.

This evening was dinner and student orientation, but I barely felt like I had enough energy to move! The crazy trip to France had been a traveler's nightmare. Nonetheless, I threw on some clothes and headed down to the Commons with Trinity.

The Commons was a chaotic mess of students and teachers milling around. The chatter and laughter made my weary head spin. Trinity looked equally distraught, her emerald eyes scanning the immense crowd hopelessly. We decided to get in line for our schedule, and we finally reached a haggard looking lady who was frantically shuffling through papers in search of our schedules. At last we got them and mulled over our classes. I had psychology with Ms. Badeau on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays in the afternoon. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I had calculus with Mr. Sommer mid-morning. I had biology with Mr. Mallery after calculus and finally, art history with Miss Delven on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays in the morning. I compared my schedule with Trinity's. Unfortunately, we had no similar classes. She was taking chemistry, European history, Latin, and world literature. Later, we listened to a few professors talk about rules and so forth, and then we had a leisurely dinner. We audaciously introduced ourselves to a group of girls during the meal.

"Can we sit here?" I asked, motioning to the two empty chairs.

"Sure," replied one girl, smiling up at us.

"I'm Betty Cooper," I said, setting down my salad.

"And I'm Trinity Mares."

"Well nice to meet you all!" enthused a girl with straight light brown hair, "I'm Sophie Channing!"

A petite redhead introduced herself next. She had a pale complexion with rosy cheeks and grayish blue eyes. "My name's Gwynne Astley. It's a pleasure to meet you two."

All the girls seemed very friendly and companionable. Sophie was in my art history class and Gwynne was in my calculus class. It was reassuring to know that I was meeting people in this strange, new world!

We finally returned back to our rooms at around 10 o'clock and I was ready to collapse from exhaustion. I went to sleep almost instantly, before catching one last glimpse at the illuminated Eiffel Tower.

Two days later: Monday morning 

I hurried around the dorm like a mad woman, making sure I had all the books and things I needed. I had planned this first morning down to the seconds. I hustled down to the cafeteria to grab a bite of food, simply pulling my hair up into a quick bun. I grabbed a banana and power bar and dashed off for art history. I had given myself ten extra minutes to find the classroom. Carefully studying the map, I easily located Miss Delven's class and waited outside in the early morning sunshine. The campus was marvelous, to put it simply. There were lush lawns full of large oaks and elms that generously provided their shade. The buildings were all very castle-like and ornately crafted, with interesting staircases and windows. Several lakes dotted the area and served as perfect places to sit and contemplate life (or anything for that matter). The university was located in a prime location in Paris. It was across the street from the Eiffel Tower and was relatively close to the Louvre and several other notable locations. All the places to see! It was 7 at last and I trudged into my class. A young woman was scrawling on the board in elegant cursive. She was dressed in a very unusual fashion. She wore a long, green skirt, made of a ruffly material and a purple blouse. She wore an incredible amount of pearls around her neck! She definitely was different, but I liked her defiant style of dress that plainly seemed to say, _This is me!_

"Well hello!" she said in a voice that seemed to rise and fall like the breeze.

"Hi, I'm Betty Cooper," I replied hesitantly.

"Ah, yes, indeed."

Students slowly began to filter in and take their seats. Once everyone had come in (many of them looking quite groggy), Miss Delven began to speak.

"Welcome, to art history!" she chimed, "This class will take you on a journey through our most complex form of expression—art. We will experience it all! From cave paintings to Matisse! From Monet to Picasso!" The woman moved her hands, passionately speaking on. "Through this class you will understand the history of art and all portrayed in art like you never have before!" Her voice hit a high octave and then dropped. "Let us begin." And so we began by viewing several slides of various paintings and then at the end, identifying what they all had in common. I was excited about this class; it would not be boring.

Next was calculus, and I must say, the professor was a bit of a nut. Mr. Sommer was an old, white-haired man who spent the majority of the period lecturing us. But his lectures had no logical flow or pattern to them. He jumped sporadically from topic to topic, and went off on wild tangents every so often. To make matters worse, he paced urgently around the room and would write illegibly on the board, muttering into the wall. It was like the man's brain was open to us and all his thoughts were flying out uncontrollably all over the place. On the way out, I chatted briefly with the girl who sat in front of me.

"So," I asked, "Did you understand his ramblings?"

She laughed. "Nope, looks likes it's going to be a textbook kind of year."

"Yep." The textbook would be my calculus teacher.

"I'm Betty, by the way," I added.

"I'm Emma," she said, "Nice meeting you!" She had short, dark brown hair, and was very tall and graceful. I wondered if she was a dancer. We parted ways and I headed towards my final class of the day: biology.

"Come in! Come in!" shouted the teacher, as he waved the students into the science lab.

"Please sit in your assigned seats!"

We all settled down and Mr. Mallery walked to the front of the room.

"Welcome to biology," he said, "I want you to say hello to the person sitting next to you. He or she will be your lab partner for the rest of the semester." He chuckled, smoothing down his moustache.

I looked over at my lab partner and groaned. He had his head on his books and looked like he was trying to catch a few extra zzzzs. I already disliked him for his lazy nature. Tapping him on the shoulder, I began to introduce myself. He looked up with a pair of the most stunning eyes I have ever seen. They were literally like glowing gems that had been placed in his irises. They shimmered an intense bluish purple and seemed to bore into me with piercing precision. He had tousled black hair and a sharp jaw with lean cheeks.

"I'm Betty," I stammered.

"Ah, well, I'm Jonathan, sleep-lover and certified babe magnet," he said.

I grimaced. Ugh. He was arrogant too! I rarely despise people, but I had a problem with overly confident, arrogant people.

"You can call me Jon," he finished.

"Alright then, chic catcher," I responded tartly.

"Welllll excuse me blondie! Just trying to be honest," he replied, the edges of his mouth pulling up into a laugh. Mr. Mallery returned our focus to the front of the class.

"Today, we will discuss your syllabus!" he said excitedly, as he began to pass out thick packets of paper. The class progressed uneventfully, but I look forward to the studies we will be doing this semester. Once class had been dismissed, Jon grabbed his messenger style backpack and hightailed it out the door.

"See ya, blondie!" he shouted, disappearing in the hall. _That lazy good for nothing will most definitely make me fail this class!_ I thought miserably. But if I despised him so much, then why couldn't I get those sapphire eyes out my head?

Yepperz, that's chapter five! And I might just kill the story at that, but let's have a chat with the characters.

**Me:** Okay guys! We have all the reviews in front of us and we have a big decision to make. Should we keep this story going?

**Veronica:** No way! You should totally start a fanfic all about gorgeous me! Betty is such a boring character. She's studious, perfect...But I am exciting, stunning, and lead a life of luxury, adventure, and hot hunks! If you wrote a fanfic about me...

**Me:** Okay Veronica! Thanks for your opinion! Anyone else?

**Jon:** Well the poor readers just got to meet me in this chappie! I want a few more lines!!

**Me:** What about you Betty? What do you think?

**Betty:** Oh, I don't really have a preference. I don't have to be the center of attention! Why don't you ask the reviewers? I don't mean to rush you, but I really have to study the first section in our calculus book because the teacher wasn't too helpful today!

**Veronica:** Yeah, and I can't miss the newest episode of _The Surfing Detective_! It's on in 4 minutes, so make it choppy Ear Gal!

**Me:** It's EarthDaughter.

**Veronica:** Whatever. Hey guys, why isn't Archie here?

**Me: **I think he's out with Cheryl Blossom.

**Veronica:** AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! (runs screaming out of the room) I'll get that dirty two-timer!!!!!!

**Me:** Alrighty then! (rolls her eyes)  
**Betty: **Uh, EarthDaughter, there's this one review that totally put downs your story. They don't like it and they think Veronica and I are totally out of character. I'm so offended!! Hmph!! I am Betty! How dare they say I don't act like Betty!!

**Me:** It's okay! It's their opinion; they can say whatever they want!

**Betty:** Still, so rude!!

**Jon:** I'm sure they'll turn their review right around now that I'm in the picture!

**Me:** Yeah, anyways, what do you guys think the plot is right now with the story?

**Betty:** The plot is: What's going to happen in France? Will I really forget about Veronica and Archie?

**Jon: **Well, I think it's more like: What's going to happen with Jon and Betty?

**Me:** Okay, thanks guys, I won't keep you from your studying Betty and you from your sleeping Jon. (leaves room)

**Betty:** Hey readers, EarthDaughter obviously feels kind of down about her story, so review! And no more dumb flamers!!!! Keep all negative thoughts in your negative little brains!!! (Betty is surprised by her sudden outburst)

**Jon:** Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

Note: This character conversation thingy was not my own, original idea, just in case anyone is in the mood to sue.


	6. Perfect Punk Rock

Thanks a bunch to all my super fab reviewers! I'm going on with the story because you all are sooo great!! Personal comments about your reviews are at the end of this chappie. Oh and I think I should do the disclaimer thingy.

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the Archie Comics characters, but I do own my silly little plot.

Alright!! Betty's in France, classes have started, what next??!?

Chapter 6: Perfect Punk Rock

Cradling the phone with my neck, I rapidly punched in my parent's phone number.

"Hello?"

"Mom! Hi!"

"Oh, Betty, it's so nice to hear from you! How's school?"

"Oh Mom, it's gorgeous! All the buildings are so medieval looking and for the most part, my classes are great! Calculus is a drag, though, because the teacher is a lunatic. But anyways, we were studying a slide of Mary Cassatt's painting of a mother and child in art history when it hit me how much I missed you!"

"That's so sweet honey! We miss you too! It's so quiet at the dinner table now!"

We continued on with our light conversation, discussing my new friends, Paris, and Riverdale. To my immediate relief, the subject of Archie and Veronica never arose. After a sad parting, I called Polly, my older sister, in San Francisco.

"Hello?"

"Polly! It's me, Betty!" I enthused, excited to hear her voice.

"Bets! How's France?" she replied.

I gave her the complete scoop on my surroundings, explaining everything down the tiniest detail.

"Betty," began my sister, "How are you feeling?"

I knew exactly what she meant.

"Well, it's good to know that I'm a little more over Archie every day. I feel like I'm finally taking my life in a new direction...that I've finally pulled out of that monotonous rut of high school life," I explained.

"Good Betty! I know going to France was the best thing for you, but I miss you terribly!"

"Likewise, Polly, but our sister bond is pretty tough, yeah? And winter break isn't too far away!"

"You're right! Bring me home a cute Parisian!"

"You wish! I better go, Polly. Talk to you soon!"

I missed Polly so much! She was so sweet and kind! I cradled my head in my arms, trying hard not to cry.

"Betty! Ready to go?" called Trinity, as she bounded into our room.

I hurriedly wiped the tears off my face and smiled. "Of course."

Sophie, Gwynne, Trinity, and I were all headed for lunch together in the cafeteria.

"I miss my Mom's cooking so much!" moaned Gwynne, poking at goopy brown mass appropriately entitled "Meaty Surprise!"

"I just stick with the salad bar. You can't mess up a salad!" said Sophie, "And they won't making me fat, either." I rolled my eyes at her ridiculous comment. Sophie was very slender and didn't seem to have an ounce of fat on her body.

We finally settled down at a table and dug into our wonderfully 'gourmet' lunches.

"We definitely should go out sometime," I suggested, and heads nodded vigorously in response.

"So Gwynne," Trinity began, "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Portland, Oregon, and I really love Europe, which is why I came to this school. I'm really into hiking, writing, and reading."

"How about you, Sophie?" I asked, turning to the attractive girl.

"Well, I'm from Florida, and I came here because I love France!" she chirped, "I like boys, music, traveling, and..." She nibbled at a carrot pensively. "And shopping!"

Sophie was very kind, but she seemed the most out of place here in this academically focused environment. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, though; maybe she had some secret zeal for math or something!

Our lunch passed pleasantly, and could tell that the seeds of friendship had been planted! With careful watering and weed picking, our plants would blossom in no time at all!

oeoeoeoeoeo

Trudging out of an overwhelming calculus class the next day, Emma and I stopped to chat again.

"I'm from Indiana," she began.

"Cool! I'm from a small town in California."

"I'd like to chat more...would you like to grab dinner in the city tonight?"

"That would be wonderful! Meet you outside at six?"

"Great!"

_Things were going so well_, I thought elatedly. None of these girls seemed selfish or egotistical, like Veronica. _Easy Cooper. Don't worry about Veronica!_ I chided, walking across the campus towards biology.

Some puffy white clouds drifted loosely in the sky, a stark contrast to their bright blue background. Could things be anymore perfect? _Well Archie could be here...no! I won't think about him!_ I thought, ending the mental conversation.

I plopped down on my science stool and glanced over at my lab partner. Today, he was wearing headphones and listening to loud punk rock music. Mr. Mallery began to speak about our first unit, anatomy.

"Listen closely, everyone, as I begin introducing you to the anatomy of living organisms." He clasped his hands as if in prayer. "We will begin with the study of the anatomy of mammals." I quickly pulled out a piece of paper and began to jot down notes as Mr. Mallery delved into explanations and definitions. Fortunately, his lecture was much more organized and understandable than Mr. Sommer's. I glanced over at Jon, wanting to make sure he got these notes as well. He, however, was still listening to his punk rock. I rapidly yanked off his headphones.

"Jon, this is not some kind of party! What Mr. Mallery is saying is important! Take notes," I whispered fervently.

"I'll pass," he replied casually, putting on his headphones.

I pulled them off again.

"Why are you even here if you're just going to listen to music?" I questioned.

"Well, I have my priorities. Things I want to learn, things I don't. Biology is the latter, but my parents had other ideas. Savvy?"

I scoffed at his strange pirate language, "savvy?" but held my tongue. I usually wasn't so outspoken around people and was more easy-going, but I just felt different around him. _It's probably those eyes,_ I thought, returning to my frantic note taking.

By the end of class, my arm was numb from all of the rapid writing I had done. My paper was covered in notes and I was amazed at how fast my neat, legible handwriting had turned into a messy, smeared scrawl.

"You're crazy," he muttered, peering over at my notes. He popped open his CD player and took out the disk, slipping it in a plastic case. He slid the case across the table towards me.

"Let loose, Elizabeth. Listen," he said, his blue-indigo eyes boring into mine. With that, he strolled out of class, bag over shoulder. Part of me was stunned by being called "Elizabeth" and the other part by the CD. Jon was definitely one interesting person, but I still disliked him for his apathetic nature. Feeling slightly befuddled, I placed the CD in my backpack and left for my dorm. Punk rock would have to wait; I had a mountain of studying to climb.

oeoeoeoeoeo

After five hours of studying, I was ready to relax. Shifting through my clothes, I wondered what would be appropriate to wear out to dinner in Paris. Dressy or casual? I finally decided on white pants and a low pink shirt with scarlet roses and tiny white dots. I rarely wear my hair down, but I opted to be different tonight and left it down, pulling it up into a half-ponytail. At six, I walked out to the front to meet Emma. As I walked out, I passed Jonathan, and something very odd occurred. Once he recognized me, his eyes widened, either in horror or amazement.

Emma and I took a taxicab to a French restaurant called La Marmotte. It was a quaint place with a classy atmosphere. The lighting was dim, but a tall candle glowed on each table and unobtrusive music mingled with subdued voices and laughter.

"So, Betty, tell me about yourself," voiced Emma.

"Well, I'm from California and hope to be a teacher of some sort one day. The American University was an escape from a life I didn't want to live," I said earnestly.

Emma smiled knowingly.

"Yep, that's the case for me too. Pure and simple."

EMMA'S POV

If only it was that simple. If only Betty understood the complexities of my life. I wish I could explain to her how drastically my life changed in the course of one year. I wish I could tell her about my family. My sisters...my brothers...my parents...all the people I'll never see again because of my decision.

END EMMA'S POV

"Emma?" I asked. The lanky girl was staring into the candle's flame as if in a trance.

"Oh sorry," she said, "Just thinking."

"That's okay," I replied, "So what classes are you taking?"

"Well, calculus of course, and economics, as well as philosophy and French history."

"Interesting! I really wanted to take philosophy, but I decided on psychology instead. How is it?"

"Excellent! We mainly have class discussions about philosophers and philosophical questions. We also read original works by philosophers such Hume and Kierkegaard," she responded enthusiastically.

We first had gazpacho and it was scrumptious! The soup seemed to explode with fresh, savory flavor. For my main course, I had a ravioli dish and Emma had 'chicken in wine sauce.' A shared piece of chocolate cake topped off the wonderful dinner.

"That was good!" I sighed, "Too bad this place doesn't run our cafeteria."

Emma laughed. "Then we all would be too stuffed to move after every meal!"

"This is true!" I joked, slinging on my homemade purse.

We parted ways at school, after expressing our mutual enjoyment of the evening. There was something about her life that was different, I could tell. Perhaps it was something in her past? I was unable to identify what seemed to surface in her dark brown eyes.

When I got back to the dorm, Trinity was not in, which I didn't really mind. Being alone had always been a peaceful time for me. I sat down at my desk and was about to open my calculus book when Jon's CD caught my eye. _Betty! You need to finish studying! Don't listen to it!_ For some bizarre reason, I ignored my conscience and slid the CD into my Walkman. Jon's obnoxious music blared into my ears. Amazingly, I began to like the low rhythm of the bass and the crazy drumming. The heavy rock seemed to vibrate in my bones and strangle the real me. I loved the connection between me and the music. It was so personal! Once the CD was over, I slowly removed my headphones, astounded at how invigorated I felt. For once, I was afraid of who I could be with all this freedom. Would I loose the real me? _Who_ even was the real me

oeoeoeoeoeo

Well, folks, that's chapter 6! It was a tad bit wild and random, but oh well! I hope you like the new characters Betty has met in Paris!

**Comments to my Lovely Reviewers:**

**autumngold:** Thanks so much! I'm so happy you support Betty going to Paris! Yay for you!

**archie-comics:** You are an extremely loyal reviewer and I appreciate you taking time to specifically point out what's working in my story and what's not! Thanks a ton!

**RockinBassGurl:** Welcome to my tiny little reviewer's circle! Thanks so much for reviewing Nads! I luv your support! Rock on!! ï

**SeksiSkewlGurl:** Well, I'm sorry you feel that way about my story. Since Betty and Veronica are comic book characters, they don't have very realistic personalities, so when an author writes them in a fanfic, they have to add dimension to those personalities, which involves a lot of interpretation and imagination. This story is my interpretation, but thanks for voicing yours!

**Shaylea Whited:** Thanks so much! I'm so glad you like the story! Keep reviewing for me! (hugs)

**purplemonky:** You are also one of my devoted readers/reviewers. Thanks for supporting my ideas! Review on!

**Digital Tempest:** You were my first reviewer and your comments are great! Thx a million! Hip hip hooray!

**Jennifer:** Glad you agree with me on Betty's outrageous treatment. Hopefully she'll find a better guy in France...

**moosetracks:** Hey Guinevere! Thanks for reviewing my story, and giving me some constructive criticism. You're such a great writer; keep going with your story!

**Ms. Kinnikufan:** Yeah! Spread the Betty ditches Archie love! Thanks for reading, reviewing, and liking!

So reviewers, do what you do best: REVIEW! No flamers, though! Keep that fire to yourself!


	7. A Meeting in London

**Here's another chapter!!**

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the Archie's comics characters, okay?

Chapter 7: A Meeting in London

Minutes turned to hours, hours to days, and soon enough, autumn was knocking at the door, October at her heels. The leaves were beginning to change to vibrant oranges, golds, and reds. Fall had always been my favorite season, so I relished the gorgeous leaves. I had taken a few picture of the trees, campus, and my view of the Eiffel Tower to e-mail to my parents and sister. A few days ago, I saw someone else out there photographing the trees, but I couldn't quite make out their face. My classes were marvelous! Miss Delven brought to class her passion for art history every day and seemed to sprinkle it around the room like fairy dust. Psychology grew more and more fascinating with each passing day. As for calculus, it was all right, if you read your textbook every night, very carefully. In biology, we were doing lots of dissections to supplement our study of the anatomy.

Relationships were the other main part of my life here in France. Trinity and I got along beautifully. Before I left, I had heard so many awful roommate stories, but fortunately, none of them became a reality for me. We both had early morning classes, so we liked to get to bed before midnight. She was usually pretty reserved, but sometimes would open up and talk with me about her family and ambitions. Emma and I had become much closer, although I still couldn't quite figure out what was different about her. She never discussed her past or family. It was as if they didn't exist! Gwynne was extremely kind and generous, but was shy like Trinity. I would often catch her reading a novel or writing in her journal under one of the big oaks out on the grass. I think she really missed Oregon, where she was able to walk from her house straight into the mountains. That wasn't quite as manageable in Paris. Sophie was my least favorite of the group. She was constantly toting around some new "boy-toy" and nagging us about our clothes and makeup. That brought back a few unwanted Veronica memories. I honestly wasn't quite sure why she was here, since she spent the majority of her time gossiping, not studying. I just tried to stay on her good side and away from "her men" as she called them. Jon had definitely become more complex as we got to know one another. I couldn't quite tell whether we were just friends or a little more. Despite Archie's horrible treatment, I secretly hoped Archie would realize his true passion for me. This wild fancy interfered with my ability to think logically about my feelings for Jon. He was always very kind to me, but we often joked around, teasing each other about this and that. Our eyes would sometimes lock for a little to long, but what does that signal?

oeoeoeoeoe

Today was the day of the cat dissection. I had a cat of my own back home, and didn't look forward to finding out what their insides look liked. I needed to have utmost control over my stomach, so I skipped breakfast that morning. Mr. Mallery began to hand out the cats and I looked away nervously.

"Hey Elizabeth, you're looking kind of pale," whispered Jon, "They're dead you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not afraid of live cats," I muttered, "I just really like animals."

"Well you didn't have any problems with that sheep eye," he replied, laughing.

"You know I did! It was staring at me, I swear! It was cursing me for dissecting it!"

Mr. Mallery finally reached our table and pulled a cat out of his large bag. It was a thin, black cat that luckily did not resemble my cute pet in any way.

"Class, attention please! You may begin skinning the cat...very carefully! I will be walking around to offer assistance."

I stared at the limp cat. _Betty! It's dead! Dissect the thing! Stop being so sympathetic!_ I took a deep breath and picked up the scalpel. Jon looked surprised but said nothing. I began at the neck and sliced all the way down to the tail.

I looked over at Jon. "Didn't know I could skin a cat, did ya?" I asked. I looked back at my work, trying to avoid looking at the cat's eyes. But I glanced down and saw them. They were a misty gray color and looked so astonished and sad. _Focus Cooper!_ I tried to tell myself, but those eyes were just too appealing. I dropped the scalpel and turned away.

"The great cat skinner gives up the job?" teased Jon, picking up the scalpel.

"What can I say? I'm just not cut out to hurt animals, dead or alive!" I replied honestly.

"That's a good thing," said Jon quietly.

It was those kind of comments that made me wonder. He usually was funny and carefree, but he could sometimes be very sensitive and thoughtful; he was hard to read.

We were at last done with the cat. It had taken an extra period to finish examining all the organs, but we were done. There were a few times when I felt nauseous, but was able to maintain my composure throughout the lab, amazingly enough. I felt like a grave robber when I looked back at our sad cat, void of all its organs. When it reached cat heaven, the cat angels would have to sew the poor thing back up! As we were leaving class, Jon gave me another CD.

"Thanks," I said, looking up into his entrancing sapphire eyes.

Exchanging CDs had become a tradition among us; he would give me his punk or rock CD, and I would give him classical or whatever else I had. It was a way of accepting out differences, and I liked it. Last week, I loaned him my all time favorite—Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, and I had this feeling when he returned it that it had become his favorite too.

oeoeoeoeoe

It was Friday, and Miss Delven was looking extremely exited, although the coming of the weekend was not why.

"Students!" she almost sung, "I have wondrous news! I have arranged for you, you lucky humans, to visit the Louvre next month." She raised her hands, disrupting the scores of silver bracelets that hung on her wrists. "You will see paintings, sculptures, and so much more. You will interact personally with artists through their works. November 4th is when this journey begins."

For the rest of the class period, she explained the Louvre in more detail and explained its most famous works. Once we were dismissed, Jon caught me at the door. Jon was also in my art history class.

"I was wondering," he began slowly, "If you...if you have ever been to the Louvre before?"

"No," I replied quizzically, "You know I've never even been to France before."

"Yeah, I guess I forgot!" He waved and hurried off to his next class.

_That was weird,_ I thought, picking off a golden leaf from one of the nearby maples. _Very unlike Jon._

oeoeoeoeoe

It was October 17th and we had a four-day weekend beginning in three days due to a "Fall Break." Gwynne and I were talking about the weekend over coffee in the cafeteria.

"We really haven't been out much since we came here," I complained swirling my straw in my drink.

"Well, I have an idea I think you'll like," said Gwynne, flipping back her red-gold locks, "We'll take a bus and ferry to London for Fall Break. You, me, and Trinity."

"Brilliant," I responded, "London!"

"I'll call for reservations. You tell Trinity," voiced Gwynne, her light eyes sparkling.

I dashed out of the cafeteria and up to the dorm.

"Trinity!" I said, bursting into our room.

"You, me, and Gwynne are going to London this weekend!"

"Seriously?" she said.

"Yep," I replied, flopping on my bed, "London."

oeoeoeoeoe

A bump in the road sent my writing into a jagged upward climb. "Not again," I murmured, erasing the line.

Gwynne laughed. "You're so studious Bets!"

"I just want to finish this calc homework. Then I'm all done!" I replied, attempting to solve the problem again.

"Suit yourself!" replied Gwynne, continuing her conversation with Trinity.

The bus ride through the countryside was stunning. Green hills rippled towards the horizon like a sea of grass. The day was overcast, but not rainy. Every so often, slivers of sunshine would stream down, brightening bits of grass. Gwynne had been scribbling in her journal for a significant part of the journey and agreed to let me see an entry.

"They're just musings," she said, "Nothing much."

I read one of her entries, charmed by her message.

A vast ocean of green stretches out before me, beckoning for laughter and play. Slipping off my sandals, I cartwheel across the soft, lush grass. It tenderly envelops me like a mother's embrace, reminding that none outgrow their youthful exuberance.

"Nothing much? I love it Gwynne. You obviously have a way with words," I gushed.

Gwynne blushed, holding back her smile.

After taking a ferry and another bus ride, we had finally reached the bustling town of London. Strolling down the street was a nice reprieve from our isolated lives at the university. After grabbing a quick bite at a small restaurant, we headed for our sleeping quarters, which Gwynne had so kindly arranged. We stayed in a small room in a hotel in central London, and had an excellent view of a river below. The beds were too soft to resist, so we immediately fell asleep without so much as a peek at the hotel's pool.

oeoeoeoeoe

We woke up at a leisurely time the next morning, grateful for no classes.

"Where should we go?" questioned Trinity.

"We could stop by a coffee shop for breakfast and then discuss our plans for the day," I suggested.

"Sounds good," said Gwynne, pulling her hair over her shoulder and braiding it.

We walked down to Maggie's Coffee House and ordered a light breakfast of Chai tea and muffins. Gwynne glanced over at a blonde haired college boy, who was talking amicably with a friend.

"I hate to sound like Sophie, but I just love English accents! They're so charming," said Gwynne enthusiastically.

Trinity and I laughed, nodding our heads in agreement.

"Betty!" called out the woman at the counter as she set down our breakfast.

"I'll be right back," I said, going up to retrieve our food.

I grabbed two of the Chai teas and was turning around when I came face to face with none other than Veronica Lodge herself. I almost dropped the teas from surprise.

"Ron?" I whispered, shocked.

"Betty dear!" she said, shaking her raven hair, "What on Earth are you doing here?"

"Well, it's Fall Break and my friends and I decided to visit London. I might ask you the same question."

"Mumsy and I are here for the fall fashion show, of course," she laughed.

I admit I had been harboring a secret fantasy that Archie would realize he truly loved me, not Veronica, and come pursue me, lovesick and regretful. Here was the girl that could confirm this fantasy or destroy it. I didn't even have to wonder.

"Betty, dear, I really wish you could be in California with me...and Archie. I'm sorry things didn't work out between you two. But we're renting a house off campus together," she laughed, "I guess thinks are getting pretty serious!"

VERONICA'S POV

I looked at Betty's crestfallen face and couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt. Ever since Betty left, Archie had been acting weird and admitted to missing Betty's face at school. His love for me seemed to evaporate, and he constantly picked at all my flaws (well, what he called flaws!) When he kissed me goodnight, I couldn't help but feel he wished I were Betty! But we Lodges don't loose, so Betty will never know Archie's true feelings. And I think I can use this little meeting to my advantage. Maybe I'll tell Archie I ran into Betty in London and that she's dating someone else and has totally forgotten about him! Am I not the most clever woman on Earth?

END VERONICA'S POV

"Oh that's great!" I lied, "I hope you two are happy! Well, I better go!" I tried to hide my disappointment at her response.

"Bye Bets! Come visit sometime!" she said cheerily as she left the shop, her Italian boots clicking on the floor.

_You wish_, I thought. I chided myself for even daring to think Archie still had feelings for me. I had been physically done with Archie when I walked out of Pop Tate's that one fateful night, but today, I was mentally done with the worthless teen.

I returned to our table and took a big gulp of my iced Chai tea.

"Who was that?" asked Trinity, concern filling her eyes.

"Oh, none one!" I replied, "No one at all."

I quickly changed the subject, "Anyone interested in seeing the Globe Theatre today?"

My meeting with Veronica tainted the rest of the trip, and my friends could tell something was bothering me. But they kindly avoided the topic, but made it clear they were ready to listen when I was ready to talk. Already, I could tell they were very loyal friends and I appreciated their understanding. I still couldn't believe Veronica and I ran into each other at that coffee shop. Fate has funny ways of working, but I guess it was all for the best. I needed a reality check.

**End chapter 7!! Thanks for reviewing!!!**


	8. Why Is She Smiling?

Hey everyone! I'm very sorry it has taken me so long to update, but my sister just returned from college for fall break and I have an Irish step dance competition next week, so bear with me! Onwards!!

Chapter 8: Why Is She Smiling? 

November 4th had finally arrived and Miss Delven looked faint from excitement. We stood on the steps of the Louvre, waiting to enter the vast museum.

"Okay, follow me!" exclaimed Miss Delven, waving her hands frantically. We entered the bright museum and were efficiently split up into two groups before being led towards the exhibits. An old, white-haired man took our group and rapidly guided us from painting to painting, providing us with many unnecessary facts about the artist and painting. I envied the artists' abilities. Some of the paintings were amazingly realistic and detailed. I couldn't imagine how long it would take to create these masterpieces! Other paintings, however, were more mystical and fantasy-like, but just as incredibly done. We wrapped up our tour with the Leonardo DaVinci exhibit. His paintings were wonderful and seemed very meaningful. It was enjoyable to at last see the real Last Supper. It was even more meticulous and artfully done than I had envisioned. The last painting I viewed was the famous Mona Lisa. Her simple elegance and patient air mesmerized me. The tour guide began to lead the group out, rambling about notable curators of the Louvre, but I stayed but at the Mona Lisa.

"Why do you think she's smiling?" asked a voice behind me.

I jumped, turning, and was relieved to see Jon. I glanced around the empty corridor before answering.

"Well, it seems as though she's smiling about some secret," I suggested.

"I think she's smiling at us," replied Jon, and with that, he leaned down, and kissed me lightly on the lips. I returned his zeal, a tingling sensation shooting up my spine. We broke apart and I quickly muttered about leaving soon, trying to suppress the flush creeping up my cheeks. I headed towards the doors, thrilled by our encounter, but embarrassed by our sudden intimacy. Walking out in the chilly fall air, I tried not to smile. Jon kissed me! I couldn't help but compare him to Archie. Archie's affection was always limited and he often seemed very distant. Jon was loving, spunky, and very handsome. I ignored the voice inside that warned of being hurt again. Jon would never treat me like Archie had. Never.

oeoeoeoeoe

"Spill Betty. You look as if you've just won the lottery," begged Trinity. She already could read my face extremely well, despite the fact that we had only known one another for three months.

"Well," I began hesitantly, not sure if I wanted to reveal my secret. Trinity sat down next do me, her green eyes narrowing.

"Is it a guy?" she asked, twisting a black lock of hair.

"You win!" I said, "It's a guy! Jon..."

"I knew it!" cut in Trinity happily, "You two had chemistry from the very beginning."

I laughed, "I'm not sure where it's going though."

The answer came soon enough. After art history the next day, Jon pulled me aside.

"Would you like to meet me down in the dining hall for lunch today?" he asked, his sapphire eyes sparkling.

"I'd like that," I replied shyly, "How about noon?"

oeoeoeoeoe

Usually, I don't care about what I wear, but today was different. Trinity looked up from her biology book, smiling. "You're only going for lunch in the dining hall," she said.

"I know!" I replied, deciding on a pale orange sweater and sand blown jeans.

After pulling my hair into a messy bun, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. Down in the cafeteria, I spotted Jon at a table by the large bay windows and grabbing a yogurt, headed towards him. My stomach flipped as I slid into the seat, and I voiced a quick hello. Amazingly, I was able to talk normally and we had a pleasant lunch together.

"So what's your family like?" I asked, pushing aside my finished lunch.

Oddly enough, Jonathan looked away quickly, as if the question upset him.

"I have an older sister, Katrina, who is currently living in New York, and a younger brother named Jason. How about you?"

"I also have an older sister, Polly, who looks just like me." I smiled, remembering Polly's cheery face and rich blonde hair.

We continued to chat, and at two, I had to go to my psychology class with Ms. Badeau. Before parting ways, Jon leaned down and briefly kissed me, sending thrills through my body. As I ambled towards my dorm, Sophie came bounding towards me.

"Betty," she began, widening her hazel eyes, "Are you going out with Jonathan? Jonathan Corte?"

I shrugged, "I'm not sure if we're 'going out.'"

"But he just kissed you right?" she questioned.

"Yeah," I answered reluctantly.

"Well then you're going out. Congrats. Jonathan Corte," announced Sophie. She quickly turned on her heel and flounced back to the dining hall. _That was weird_, I thought, _She actually seemed disappointed to hear about Jon and me!_ I shrugged it off and prepared for a long afternoon of psychology and studying.

oeoeoeoeoe

The wind whipped cruelly at my thin body as I clung desperately to the cliff edge. Someone was pushing my hands, trying to break my grip. I screamed as one hand loosed and fell; it was bloody from chafing against the harsh edge of the cliff. My scream, however, hung silent in the air. I was unable to make a noise! The evil person on the cliff kicked at my other hand and it slipped. I tumbled through the hot, dusty air, the scream still caught in my throat.

Panting, I awoke from the horrible dream to the peaceful darkness of my room. Eerie moonlight filtered through the blinds on the window, and I shuddered at the realness of the dream. It was five in the morning, and I doubted I would be able to fall asleep again. Quietly rising from my bed, I pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and took a long run around the several lakes on campus. Each gust of wind now blew the golden leaves from the trees, sending them spiraling down to Earth. _It's so peaceful_, I thought, pulling in a deep breath of the cool air. As I headed around the still water, I saw a figure huddled on a nearby bench. As I drew closer, I realized that the bent person was Emma. I slowed and sat next to her.

"Emma?" I asked.

The young woman's head jerked up. "Oh Betty. Hi. What are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep," I replied, "How about you?" I noted the girl's saddened face and listless eyes.

"It's just nice to have time to think in the mornings," she replied, trying to smile.

"What's wrong?" I asked, "You seem sad about something."

EMMA'S POV

I debated whether to tell Betty about my family. It had all been such a burden to keep! Such a struggle! I thought I had it all under control, but things changed. I decided to tell Betty, hoping she would understand.

"Betty, can I tell you something?" I started, "It's kind of personal."

Betty's bright blue eyes widened and she nodded vigorously.

"I was Amish," I said, "Amish is a strict way of living in which you live without modern technology such as electricity and cars. You essentially act and dress as if you were living in the 1800s. When I was eighteen, I decided I didn't want that kind of life for myself or my family." I took a deep breath and continued, "So I decided to go to college and live in the modern world. When a child makes that decision, her family disowns her. I can never see them again." Surprisingly, Betty understood and put a comforting arm around my shoulders.

"That's not it," I said softly, "My younger sister, Mary, dared to send me a letter recently and wrote about so many things I forgot about it from home. I thought I would be better off here, but I miss my family so much!!"

Betty smiled sympathetically. "I never would have guessed. Emma...I'm so sorry! I thought I missed my parents and sister! You must be heartbroken."

Emma sighed, "Yep."

END EMMA'S POV

Amish!! I've never even heard about Amish people! I felt extremely sorrowful for Emma and could not even imagine the pain she must endure! After talking for a half hour, we headed back towards the dorms, enjoying the companionable silence. As I sat in my dorm, pondering Emma's strange and tragic life, I suddenly remembered my breakfast date with Jon. I leapt up frantically and jumped into the shower. After throwing on light knit pants and a turtleneck, I ran out the door towards a secluded lawn near the lakes. We were having a picnic breakfast of muffins and fruit. Once I saw Jon, reclined against a large maple, my worries for Emma evaporated.

"Hey beautiful," said Jon, as I sat down next to him.

I smiled, "You flatter me way too much!"

"So tell me Mr. Corte, what's your life plan?" I asked, opening my orange juice.

He laughed, "That's tough! I'm interested in many things...medicine mainly. Photography too, as a hobby."

"You'll need biology to be a doctor!" I replied, remembering his strong dislike for Mr. Mallery's class.

"Where do you see life taking you, my lady?" questioned Jon.

"Teaching or writing I hope," I replied honestly, breaking off part of my blueberry muffin.

After eating our light meal, Jon lay down on the grass and I followed suit, placing my head on his chest. I gazed up at the pattern of branches and few leaves above, sighing with happiness. It was a gray, dreary day, but the weather did not mirror my mood. Jon played with my ponytail, his touch immediately relaxing me. His hands eventually found mine, and we stayed like that for a while, just enjoying one another's presence. Who knew we would feel this strongly for each other? _Archie and I were never like this!_ I thought. I quickly shrugged off the dumb thought. Archie belonged to a different time; I was finished with him. I continued with my more pleasant thoughts about Jon. When I first met him, I only felt dislike and contempt! Now, I felt crazy about the black-haired youth. _Opposites attract_, I thought, flipping over to face him. He playfully threw a handful of leaves in my face. Laughing, I leaned down for a kiss.

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Whew! That's chapter 8! I hope you don't think Bets and Jon's relationship grew too fast. They did know each other for three or four months! I know Emma's life is weird...oh well! Don't expect a new chapter too soon, but I'll try my best. Now review!! Don't flame please!!!

THANKS wonderful readers and reviewers!


	9. Trust Your Intuition

Bonjour readers! Here comes chapter 9...a bit of a mystery is going to begin...and as a warning: it will be different. Thanks to all my reviewers for reviewing! I have several new reviewers, which always is a thrilling thing. In response to moosetrack's idea, thank you for the constructive criticism, but I didn't see that route as a viable option for my story. Anyways, on we go...

Chapter 9: Trust Your Intuition 

Wakefulness washed over my body, spreading relief through my bones. The horribly realistic cliff dream had returned. I didn't understand why this dream kept occurring. What did it mean? Pushing off the covers, I rearranged, eventually falling asleep again.

In the morning, I shoved the dream from my mind and moved on with my day. Rain fell mercilessly from the sky, enshrouding everything in a damp grey fog. I drifted through calculus in a lousy mood, but brightened when the storm broke up before biology. Seeing Jon in science helped to improve my mood even more. We had been dating for almost a month now and our affection for each other was extremely strong. After a quick lunch with Trinity, I went down with Emma to study and chat in the library. Ever since learning about Emma's Amish past, I had been especially generous and compassionate towards the young woman. Unfortunately, she did not have any pictures of her family because the Amish do not like having photos taken of them. I encouraged Emma to consider contacting her family. She could be the pioneer in ending the tradition of disowning children who leave for the modern world. Add first, she strongly opposed the idea, but she began to mull the idea over. I promised to help her compose a letter to her family.

At midnight, misfortune befell me. I was working studiously to finish my calculus homework, when my calculator failed me. I didn't have any batteries with me, so I decided to borrow one until I could find batteries. Trinity does not take calculus, so she did not have a scientific calculator. Gwynne was always in bed at eleven, so I did not want to awaken her. That left me with Sophie, my other friend in the girls' dorm. As I was about to knock on her door, I heard Sophie's muffled angry voice inside.

"What?!? That's too soon!! Are you crazy??" I heard her agitated voice scream. It was quiet, and then I heard a quiet "All right...I want more then...I'll be there..." before I could no longer hear. She quickly hung up and I waited another minute before knocking. Sophie came to the door looking disgruntled and grumpy, so I put a big smile on my face and asked for a calculator. She hunted through a mound of clothes and junk before finding the calculator. Once she did, she handed it over and shooed me out the door. As I strolled back to my room, I pondered the phone conversation I overheard. My common sense told me it was nothing, but my gut intuition seemed to feel otherwise.

The next morning, I still was worried what I overheard, so I talked with Trinity.

"That definitely sounds suspicious, but we can't jump to conclusions. She could be talking to a parent, sibling or even a friend!" Trinity said sensibly.

"I know, but it was weird! It was midnight and she seemed really antsy when I knocked on the door," I replied as I braided my hair, "I'll just keep my eyes open."

"That's probably smart," Trinity said, returning to her novel.

Later when I was lounging by the lake with Jon, I brought up the subject with him.

"Who knows!" was his response to my story, "Sophie could have been talking to anyone! But she is a rather strange person."

"I know, maybe I'll try to find out a little more," I suggested.

"Look out Nancy Drew!" laughed Jon amicably.

"Oh be quiet," I retorted, playfully pushing him back on the grass. He reached up, pulling me down next to him.

That night, I walked by Sophie's dorm several times, hoping to overhear another conversation, but I had no luck. Afterwards, I realized that I might be overreacting, so I decided to let my worries go. Sophie was strange, but she wouldn't be up to anything suspicious.

oeoeoeoeoe

_Meanwhile, at the University of California, Los Angeles_:

Archie Andrews kissed Veronica Lodge, but without much emotion.

"You want to come in?" asked Veronica seductively, opening her dorm door.

"Not tonight sweet pea, I have a huge test tomorrow," he replied. Last year, Archie would have jumped at the chance. But this year was different.

"Okay," said Veronica, pouting slightly. Veronica walked in, waving goodbye to Archie. He walked out of the dorm and into the warm Californian night. Because of the city lights, no stars could be seen. Once he opened his door, he sighed, flopping on the blue bed. His roommate, Todd, was in the library studying, where he usually was. Archie pulled out the top drawer of his desk, and took out the weathered picture of Betty. This was a prom picture of the two of them; Veronica had been out of town. Betty's wheaten hair was swept up in a clever up-do and a hint of makeup made her look even more dazzling. The royal blue dress hugged her slim body as it cascaded towards the floor in a river of fabric. Of course, Betty had sewn that marvelous gown herself, and even made Archie's corsage. Her smile was so wide and sparkling! Archie sighed, wishing he could regain Betty's love. Veronica's not bad, he reminded himself, thinking of the raven-haired beauty. She certainly has her advantages. Tucking away the picture, Archie clambered into bed, his heart in turmoil.

_Back to France_

Later that week, Sophie left for a quick vacation. Normally, I would think nothing of it, but I was a little more curious now. My intuition refused to cease wondering about her whereabouts. When Sophie returned, looking more haggard than rested, I approached the young woman.

"So where did you go?" I asked her casually.

"Oh just back to the States for a quick visit with my parents," she replied, her gaze wandering.

"Cool," I said, thinking of my soon arriving Winter Break, "Was it relaxing?"

"Yep," she said simply, "My sister really missed me!"

Oddly enough, I was relieved to find out her trip was normal. I didn't want that vacation to be anything strange.

Later, Trinity, Sophie, and I all went to the dining hall for dinner together. Towards the end of the meal, Trinity and Sophie went up for desserts; I decided to pass on the sweets. My eyes wandered over Sophie's backpack and I noticed some protruding papers. I inspected them closer and realized they were plane tickets. Glancing back at the dessert counter, I debated whether to take a peek or not. Once again, my common sense told me it was nothing worth violating Sophie's privacy. My intuition said otherwise. _I can't believe I'm doing this!_ I thought as I pulled out the plane tickets. One look at the papers told me everything. Stuffing them back in, I tried to compose myself. Sophie had flown to Athens, not the U.S.! _Why would she lie to me?_ I thought miserably. Confronting her about the lie would not be an option; that would be admitting to looking through her belongings. Still, I wasn't sure if this was anything significant. Maybe she has a secret boyfriend in Greece, whom she doesn't want anyone to know about! I knew it was doubtful, but was grasping for any logical explanation.

That night, I told Trinity about my findings. She scolded me for looking at the papers, but admitted that it did seem odd.

"I'm so frustrated!" I said, "There's something weird going on!"

"I know Bets," Trinity replied, "Just let me know if you want any help. We could probably find out a little more about Sophie and her past."

"Thanks!" I said. Trinity was such a kind, reliable friend!

In the morning, I asked Jonathan for his thoughts and he echoed Trinity's thoughts, but had ideas for even a more drastic plan.

"You could take a look around her room. I'd be a lookout if you want," he said seriously, running his fingers through his dark mane.

"I hope it doesn't get that drastic! It was just a weird phone call and little lie," I replied.

"It was a pretty bizarre lie, though," he said, "Why would you have a problem with her going to Athens? She could just be sight-seeing." We sat there for a while, under the bare maple tree, engrossed in our own thoughts. Finally, I felt Jon's gaze on me.

"What?" I said, turning towards him.

"You know I'm into photography," he began sincerely, "So I was wondering whether I could photograph you sometime. Just doing your normal things: reading, sitting here, and so on."

"Of course!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him. He smiled down at me. "You're the perfect subject."

oeoeoeoeo

Trinity and I conceived several ways in which we could find out more regarding Sophie's past. Unfortunately, the information would not relieve me at all, but make me more concerned than ever. What was going on?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That's it for now! Hmmmm...What will Archie do about his girl dilemma?? What's going on with Sophie? You'll find out soon, but in the meantime, please review (that does not include flaming please!)


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